Living in a Dream
by fireflyjunction
Summary: What happens if you make one major change to the story per chapter? Read and find out! On Hold
1. Christine Comes To Paris!

_**Author's Note**: Welcome to myversion of the classic story! Mainly this is my attempt to redefine the main characters. I've always felt Christine needed more spirit and Raoul needed more redeeming qualities than just being cute and rich. How will it end? Shame on you for asking! Hopefully you will have patience with me, as I meander my way through the story. _

_**Disclaimer**: I don't own any of the characters from The Phantom of the Opera, but everybody else is mine, so there!_

Garel awoke with a start as the last train lurched into the station. This one was only ten minutes late, a new record he was sure, but he would check later. Right now, there was a possibility of dinner. Even though there were only a few passengers on the trains this late at night he found they were more inclined to give him a break, along with plenty of coins. He sat up slowly as the doors opened and a small group of people lumbered out. There were one or two merchants from the country come to town, a family of sleepy-eyed tourists, and the usual set of dreary bums. He held his hat out hopefully towards the family as the others trudged along, not giving him a second glance. The family eyed him with a look of pity, but they too walked past. Sighing heavily, he returned his weathered cap to his brow, and shoving his precious blanket to the side began to reach for his crutches when he noticed the conductor entering the compartment. He paused to see what was happening, but when the man came out again, he returned to his crutches.

"Oh!" came a muffled cry. He looked up to see a beautiful lady in a snow-white dress standing before him, one pale hand covering her mouth in an expression of horror. Quickly he threw the blanket across his gnarled legs and huddled, ashamed, behind them.

"I'm sorry mademoiselle," he meekly croaked. "Didn't mean fer you to haffta see me. I sure am sorry, yes."

"Oh, please don't apologize," the angelic woman replied, her face lined with worry. "Is there anything I can do for you, a way I can help you?" She took a step towards him, and he shrank further into his blanket. She saw and retreated. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her eyes downcast. "I didn't mean…"

"Nay m'lady, I don' need much as I am, but if ya could spare a coin or two I'd be most thankful," it was the usual words, but now he felt ashamed at having asked anything from this creature of heaven.

"Of course monsieur," he paled, he had not been called monsieur in many a long year. "It is not the amount that I should like to give you but it may help," she whispered as she took out a small leather pouch from her handbag and placed it in his palm. Then without a word she grabbed up her small suitcase and proceeded down the walk towards stairs.

Emptying the pouch he found a fortune compared to his meager hoard, and he turned to thank the woman. He only caught a glimpse of her before she reached the stairs, but he saw enough. Her beautiful gown was a thin cotton shift, its colors and patterns worn away over time. Her suitcase was mud-stained and tattered at the edges. But her face was still that of an angel. He looked again at the pile of coins at his lap, and very quietly began to cry.

_XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_ Christine's POV 

The snow falls softly in the night. During the day the people scurrying about shudder and complain, the drivers shout as the carriages slip across the slick roads and the world seems so full of anger and hate. At night only the destitute and poor are out and now even they have hidden in their squalid dens. I can step into the magical world of frozen falling stars and drift away on the breeze of a forgotten delight. My first sight of the gay city of Paris, and not a soul about. The ever-burning lights illuminating the swirling, empty streets. Nowhere to go and no money to get there with, I debated on which street to take. All around me tall dark buildings stood impassively. A sudden movement of the path ahead of me caught my attention. _"Well," _I thought to myself as I ran towards the man, "_even if it is a murderer, I won't have to worry about being cold."_

"Monsieur?" I yelled to the retreating form. "Please, sir, can you help me?"

"What is it?" The man replied after I caught up with him.

"I haven't any money and nowhere to stay."

"Then you are a fool, excuse me."

"I gave all my money to a man at the railway station, and I have only just arrived

here…"

"An even more idiotic thing to do, especially since you just arrived. Where did

you plan to stay? Do you have family here?"

"I haven't any family sir."

"Well then, you have my congratulations for being the most pathetic tourist I've

ever encountered. Your prize, a one-night-only place to stay. Come with me."

"Where are we going?"

"To the Opera."

At these words I stopped dead in my tracks.

"Well, what's wrong with you now? I don't intend to stand around here in the

snow all night I'll have you know."

"The Opera sir?"

"Yes, I'm one of the managers there."

Laughter began to bubble inside my head and a small cough escaped my lips in attempt to cover my astonishment.

"At the Opera Populaire, sir?"

"No, the Opera _Un_Populaire. Really, you are the most exasperating young

woman I have ever met. Now come along mademoiselle or I shall leave you to your oddities in the street."

I had to nearly run to keep up the man as he puffed his way down the street. At least, I thought wryly, I didn't have too much to carry.

"I shall be leaving you in the care of our ballet mistress, Madam Giry. In the

morning you will leave and I don't care what happens to you after that, no matter how sad your tale of woe. Do you understand?"

" Yes, of course. Thank you so much for helping me."

"Help yourself and first thing tomorrow find a job, rent a room somewhere and

adopt a cat. The city is positively crawling with unwanted cats."

"I try to remember that …"

My voice was lost as we rounded a corner and there before us was the behemoth shadow of the opera house. The snow filled clouds blocked any moonlight that might have lifted its air of gloom but to me it still looked beautiful.

"Oh papa, I'm so close…"

"What was that?" he gruffed, noticing I'd fallen behind again. " Oh in heavens

name, may we please continue? Once we're inside feel free to go as crazy as you like. Its practically a madhouse anyway."

With that, he stormed off towards the entrance. I paused one last second to stare at the hulking façade of my sanctuary, within whose walls I dreamed of performing, before following my guide through the doors and into the halls of music.

_A/N:_ _Next chapter we meet Madam Giry, Meg and a brief appearance from everybody's favorite phantom! Please review and tell me what you think! _


	2. Abandonment and Coercion

_**Author's Note**: Due to a serious lack of motivation to continue this story I was going to withdraw it. A college friend of mine however suggested I use it as a challenge piece. Instead of trying to rewrite the story as is, I should make one major change per chapter and see what happens. Well, why not give it a shot? In the first chapter, Christine is older when she comes to Paris, about 21, and in this chapter we learn… read to find out!_

_Many blessing to my ONLY reviewer thus far, **Doomed Delight**! You are more wonderful than you possibly know! _

_**Disclaimer:** All non-phantom characters are mine but everybody else belongs to somebody else, Leroux, Webber or Kay._

Christine's POV

We entered the great doors and I suddenly found myself before the legendary Grand Staircase. Its monumental statues stood on their lofty perches coolly regarding the lowly humans who entered their golden domain. Their breathtaking beauty was endlessly reflected in the mirrored walls and I felt like nothing more than a grubby little mouse before them. My companion turned from my embarrassed astonishment with an amused smile and marched on through the winding corridors, away from the intimidating beauty and into the darkness of the world behind the stage. Finally we entered yet another large room but one that was drastically different from the last. The few gas lamps burned dimly, casting most of the room into shadow, but as if in a dream, I could see a line of ghostly white ballerinas dancing, kept in time by an older lady whose black dress blended into the shadows. It was to this lady that we had come.

"Madam Giry," my rescuer boomed. "My apologies for interrupting your rehearsal but I must go and I am leaving this mademoiselle in your care. Find a place for her to stay for the night and she is to be dismissed in the morning." The dark lady nodded and casting her severe gaze upon me, frowned slightly. Feeling even lower than before I gave her a small smile and watched my guide abandoned me.

"As you wish Monsieur," she replied to his retreating form and returned her attention to the girls. "That will be all for this evening but I expect you to do better tomorrow night!" There was an almost audible sigh of relief from the girls as they returned to the ground and let their poor toes rest. One of the girls detached herself from the group and joined the Madam and I.

"Meg," she said to the girl. "We will be staying here this evening and you will sharing your room with…" She frowned at me again and found myself wishing I were invisible. "What is your name, my dear?"

"Christine Daae, Madam."

"Very well, you will be staying with my daughter, Meg. Go now and get some rest." With that she turned on her heel and strode away leaving us alone in the room. The girl and I regarded each other for an awkward moment before she turned and led the way. She was very pretty, and I envied her straight blond hair, my own brown curls seemed to constantly get hopelessly tangled.

"Are you here for the audition, mademoiselle Daae?"

"What audition?" I asked taken aback. "And please call me Christine." She looked at me incredulously, as if I had admitted to hating ballet.

"The audition tomorrow for the chorus! I thought everybody knew about it, its been in the paper for weeks! All day long singers have been coming, looking for a place to stay to be ready for tomorrow! Are you a singer, Christine?"

"Yes, and I had hoped to join the chorus but I swear I had no idea about the auditions! I only just arrived in Paris this evening and wouldn't have any money for the paper anyway. Oh, I have always dreamed of singing at the Paris Opera, it was my father's fondest wish but haven't practiced in so long…"

"Did your father come with you to Paris?"

"My father passed away recently…" I fought back the tears that had come so easily lately.

"Oh, Christine! I'm so sorry!" She looked ready to cry herself and held my hand for a moment before I managed a weak smile. Smiling back, we stood in the hall for a moment before she bit her lip and continued. "You know, most of the girls won't make it to callbacks because they freeze up when they see the auditorium. It's very big and quite intimidating. Maybe…" she began chewing her lip again.

"Maybe what?"

"Maybe if I showed it to you tonight then you would do better tomorrow at your audition!" She grinned impishly and started to pull me forward.

" Oh, no Meg, I wouldn't want you to get in trouble…" I dragged my feet to stop her sudden enthusiasm but with little success.

"No one will know we're there, come on!" with that the little ballerina turned and ran leaving me no choice but to follow or become lost in the endless hallways.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Meg, we're not supposed to be here!" I whispered into the darkness. "You're going to get in trouble and I'll be sent away… Meg?"

"I'm over here you big worrywart! Just wait a second, till I get all the limes lit." I hadn't realized I was on the stage behind the curtain till I saw the faint glow shining through and under the great piece of red velvet. It bathed me in a pale blood red light and I shivered suddenly, feeling a desperate urge to run.

"Meg!" I nearly shrieked.

"Alright, I'm done! You can come out now scaredy-cat!" came her singsong reply. With a sigh of relief I pushed open the curtain and stepped into the light. "Well, do you like it?" she asked, giggling.

"Oh…" Standing within the circle of light I felt a torrent of unexpected emotions with threatened to overwhelm me. I knew that this was where I belonged, this was what my life was meant to be and that I would do all I could to be here. At the same time, I felt a vague sense of unease that this was not worth the price and that some dreams are meant to remain forever as mere dreams. Instead of feeling comforted and protected in the light I felt exposed and vulnerable. Turning I found Meg, oblivious to my panic, grinning happily as she practiced dancing for her admirers.

"You're a very good dancer," I told her, as she finished her dance and accepted the silent applause and adoration of her invisible fans.

"Thank you and now lets find out how wonderful a singer you are!" before I could react the little ballerina again abandoned me and rushed off the stage towards the great spotlight.

"No Meg, don't!" I cried in vain as I found myself drowning in the harsh light. " Please turn it off Meg!" I pleaded.

"Now Christine, you'll never get the part if you can't stand the light! Sing a pretty song so everyone will love you! Pretend that you are a great diva and all of Paris is here just to see you!" Though she was trying to be comforting I was about to be sick but she seemed not to notice.

"Come on Christine," she pleaded. "You have to sing! If you sing now, maybe the Phantom will hear you and make the managers hire you!"

"The Phantom?" I asked, curiosity overriding my desire to flee. "Who is the Phantom?"

"You don't know about the Phantom!" she made a sound of exasperation! "Where are you from, the Phantom is legendary! Everybody knows about the Phantom!"

"Well I don't!" I pouted.

"Look I'm sorry, and to make it up to you by telling you the story," she called out. "But only if you sing now."

"Is it a good story?" I asked, already resigning myself to singing for Meg.

"It's a _very_ good story," she giggled. "I don't hear any singing…"

Taking several deep breaths I timidly began a travelers tune my father and I used to perform at count fairs. As I heard the magnificent acoustics echoing and amplifying my voice I felt ashamed of my halfhearted attempt and closing my eyes, began to sing the song as we had once sung it, though I felt so empty to be singing now without him. As the song reached the end, I sang the descant of the final refrain, my voice soaring ever upward towards the heavens, my soul crying out for the missing voice of my father. At the last piercing note left my lips a loud unearthly cry filled the room. Opening my eyes in panic I found Meg standing beside me on the stage also staring panic stricken into the darkness beyond the stage. Turning quickly she grabbed my hand and together we breathlessly ran form the frightening shadows of the Phantom's domain and back to the safety of the ballet dormitories.

_**AN**: Well, how was it? Would somebody else please review so I know whether to trash this or not! Of course I like it or I wouldn't have taken the time to write it and post it but majority rules so I leave it in you hands._


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